Us of Lesser Gods
by SoloMoon
Summary: Oneshot. In which the occasion of Ian's birthday ends up being when Kyle and Melanie have a long-overdue conversation about Souls, mistakes, puppies, namesakes, and Little Brothers Who Should Really Know Better. Light Wanda/Ian and Jared/Melanie.


Disclaimer: Title belongs to Flogging Molly, epigraph to Dropkick Murphys, and characters/situations to Stephenie Meyer. I profit not.

* * *

"When you're stubborn by nature and quick to the draw/ And you're full of inherited pride/ But some lessons come harder than others/ And some senses are harder to find."

-"Cruel," Dropkick Murphys

Considering the last time there was that much of a hubbub throughout the tunnels had been Kyle's dramatic return with Sunny in tow, and the time before that had been Wanda's entrance to their little community, Ian was up and running almost as soon as he heard the shouting in the entry tunnel. The raiding party had been smaller than usual, he couldn't help thinking, panicked: just Kyle and Wanda had gone this time, with no backup at all…

"Okay, okay!" Kyle was yelling. "There's enough to go around, don't make a freaking mob!"

Ian recognized the smell immediately: they had brought back fresh curry. He had no idea how—or _why—_they had risked bringing back enough chicken tandoori to feed all forty-seven of them, but considering Lily was standing shell-shocked in the doorway with actual tears in her eyes, he could forgive them this once.

Abandoning the food to Lily, who swept it into the kitchen with promises she'd have it ready for later, Kyle and Wanda pushed their way over to Ian.

"So Kyle told me your birthday was coming up…" Wanda started shyly.

"You asked," Kyle said, nudging her.

"But anyway, I didn't know what to get..."

"She took all the risk."

"But it was Kyle's idea…"

"Spit it out," Ian said, grinning. Although they were technically a few days early, he thought that seeing them like this had to be better than the present itself. They were both grinning like cats holding a canary, inordinately pleased with whatever it was they'd managed to find. He loved them both so much, he thought in a burst, and loved how they went out of their way to keep him happy. God, he'd do _anything _for them.

"Well, we found this antique store," Kyle said. "And Wanda had the idea that she'd go in and use her professor cover to claim that she was doing research on anthropocy—"

"Anthropology," Wanda said.

Kyle rolled his eyes.

"It's your species," Wanda said.

If someone had told Ian in the first week Wanda had been living there that she would one day be best friends with Kyle, while barely tolerating Jared, and oddest of all in love with Ian… He didn't know what he would have thought then.

"Anyway," Kyle said, "Wanda sold them the story in the antique place, and we got…"

"Just show him," Wanda said.

"Show me what?" Ian said.

"Close your eyes," Kyle said.

"Nuh-uh," Ian said. "D'you think I'm stupid, or just forgetful?"

"I swear." Kyle rolled his eyes at Wanda. "You feed a guy _one earthworm_ when he's, like, _six years old_…"

"I was ten, and it was traumatizing," Ian said primly.

"I never said open your mouth," Kyle said. "Just close your eyes. Besides, would Wanda let me feed you earthworms?"

Ian sighed, but did as he was told. Wanda and Kyle whispered to each other for a few seconds, and then there was a sound of something being fumbled out of a box, a creak as of hinges, a whirring sound, and a faint _click._ Then another sound filled the cavern.

Ian's eyes snapped open just in time to fill with tears.

* * *

It was somewhat inevitable, Kyle thought, that it would all descend into a party. Their little band of savages used any excuse to celebrate, and considering this would be the first one with real music since they'd gotten here, it was building to go all night.

When Wanda had asked about Ian's birthday—no doubt intrigued by the informal celebration they'd held in Brandt's honor a few days back—Kyle had immediately proposed a raid, knowing without hesitation what to get.

During their first few weeks on the run Ian had treasured the precious six hours' worth of life left in his ipod, playing one precious song at a time and always somewhere he could get perfect silence so nothing would interfere with the signal of his eighty-dollar headphones. While fleeing for their lives, there had been no time to steal anything other than food, much less battery life. Even after reaching the cavern Kyle knew that Wes's moderately skilled a cappella singing had been a poor substitute for the files trapped on the tiny player Ian still owned, useless with no way to get electricity but still sentimental enough he couldn't let it go.

And then Wanda, poking around the dusty shop filled with human curiosities, had stumbled upon the battery-powered Walkman and the box of jumbled cassettes.

She had made some excuse to step outside and go back to the car, where Kyle had written down an extensive list of recommendations, anything he could remember Ian ever having listened to. The pickings had been slim—apparently Souls weren't fond of music and generally more into Mozart and Liszt than Metallica and Led Zeppelin—but after cleaning out that and two other secondhand stores Wanda had managed to accumulate eleven tapes' worth of the right kind of music.

"This is very… unique," Sunny said. She had to talk loudly over the sound of Dropkick Murphys rumbling through the room.

Kyle laughed. "It's okay if you don't like it," he said. "I'm not offended."

"As with all human efforts, it has its own beauty," she said diplomatically. "However… It's very discordant, isn't it?"

"The point is the rhythm," Kyle said. "I don't think it's supposed to have a perfect melody anyway. But hell if I know anything about music anyway."

She nodded.

It was a good thing she was naturally pretty graceful, he thought; watching some of the others dance was almost painful by proxy. Ian had attempted to teach them all the basics of swing dancing, using a hopelessly lost Wanda as his partner. That hadn't worked out—Kyle was the only other one who knew a thing about dancing, and he'd be damned if he was going to play the girl for his brother's dance lessons—and mostly the party had descended into informal free-forming and (in Jared and Melanie's case) occasional groping.

"Everybody swap partners!" Jeb yelled over the noise for the third time that night.

Kyle groaned. "Think if we separate for a few seconds and then get back together he won't notice?" he said to Sunny.

Her eyes widened comically. "That would be dishonest," she said.

Kyle bit his lip to keep from smiling, passing her off to Jamie and offering a hand to Maggie, who sniffed at him but accepted. Jeb and his team-building exercises…

Ian shot him a desperate look from across the room. Doc had evidently cut in and taken Wanda, leaving Ian and Melanie together. Considering how little Melanie liked Ian, and the fact that Kyle wouldn't put anything past her, he swept across the room quickly to hand Maggie off to Ian and sweep Melanie across the room instead.

They spun through the motions in silence for a few seconds, carefully not touching each other enough to bring Jared down on them, barely making eye contact.

"This was a good idea," Melanie said at last.

Kyle shrugged. "Wanda did all the work," he said.

Melanie snorted. "It's hardly _work _when no one looks at you twice and they don't even charge you money to take stuff," she said.

Kyle laughed, letting her duck under his arm and spin them around. If he was perfectly honest with himself it was a lot easier dancing with her than with Sunny; she was much taller and larger, better matched to him, than tiny Sunny.

Jeb had apparently contented himself with the current odd partnerships for the moment, because they remained together for the next several songs. Kyle was trying to come up with a polite way to dump her on Jamie or Jared or someone and go looking for Sunny or Wanda when he turned and she stepped wrong, her right leg collapsing under her as she fell against him with a hiss of pain.

"Jesus, sorry," Kyle said.

"I'm fine," Melanie said, but didn't push him away when he hooked a hand under her elbow to help her limp over to the seats carved into the side of the cave. Kyle glanced around, halfway expecting Jared to descend on them like an avenging angel, but for the moment he was occupied talking to a sour-faced Shannon. Kyle was grateful for this; he never understood what Melanie saw in someone that possessive and at best could only figure their relationship was purely physical.

"I _am_ sorry," Kyle said again. From Melanie's grimace, she knew he wasn't just talking about a minute ago. They both knew perfectly well why her right leg wasn't quite as strong as it had once been. Wanda had never really noticed that the muscles Kyle had damaged in her right calf during their desperate struggle at the riverside hadn't healed exactly right, and had never done anything about it. However, when Melanie had taken possession of her body back and started working out much more rigorously, the problem had become only too obvious.

"No you're not," Melanie said.

"I—" Kyle stopped.

Melanie shrugged. "I know why you did it, for what it's worth," she said. "I get it, believe me, even if Wanda and Ian never did."

"Wanda—"

"For one thing, Wanda never put two and two together that you knew you were dead either way, that even if you succeeded Jeb would kill you if Ian didn't get to you first," Melanie said. "I don't think she even realized she'd be missed that bad."

Kyle blinked in surprise. "That's Wanda for you," he said.

"She didn't get that you were throwing your life away," Melanie said. "And she never got why."

"Look…" Kyle said uncomfortably.

"For another thing, at that point she had pretty much no clue that Ian cared that much about her," Melanie said. "So I don't think she got that it was about more than just the fact that she was a Soul."

"And even if she had realized," Kyle said, "I probably would have been that much more of a jerk in her eyes. I know it didn't help with Ian at all."

"She never had a little brother." Melanie stared across the room.

"She doesn't know what it's like," Kyle said. "And you do."

"I mean, sure, she cares about Jamie more than I would have thought possible, but…" Melanie shrugged. "She never had to be mother and father and best friend and teacher and freaking everything to a kid like that. She never spent weeks assuring one person it was all going to be okay, pretending to be stoic for his sake, and all the while starving or sick or terrified out of her mind… She never had to hurt him to protect him, never had to kill to save him from himself."

Kyle looked over at her sharply. "When…?"

"We were kids then, not even that close at the time, and we had this dog…" Melanie's laugh was brittle. "Stupid mutt wasn't good for much, but she loved Jamie like anything and he loved her right back."

"You killed a puppy," Kyle said flatly. "And just when I was starting to think you were such a nice person…"

"She got in a fight with a raccoon," Melanie said. "She was bitten all over, and—"

"And the raccoon was foaming at the mouth."

Melanie swallowed.

"So you, uh…"

"One shot through the back of the head, with my dad's old pistol," Melanie said. "She never felt a thing, and to this day Jamie doesn't know she didn't run away. Because if he realized there was even a chance she wasn't infected…"

Neither of them said anything for another several minutes. The cassette flipped from "Never Forget" to a softer "Fairmount Hill," and the natural couples (several people had traded back under Jeb's nose), moved closer together.

"Did you just equate yourself to a dog and Wanda to the rabies virus?" Kyle said at last.

"Oh, shut up," Melanie said. "You know what I mean."

"Well, can't say I shot any puppies," Kyle said. "Although—"

"She wasn't a _puppy,_ God—"

"This one time when Ian was six he did bring a scorpion home and announce he was keeping it as a pet."

"What?" Melanie said.

"I think you can figure out what happened to that one," Kyle said.

"What did you tell him?"

"I don't even remember. Something about it having packed up and moved to Phoenix or whatever."

"Wow," Melanie said. "A _scorpion_."

"Worst part was, he named it after me," Kyle said.

This got an outright giggle from Melanie, the sound surprising from the normally stoic woman. "How flattering," she said.

"Anyway, I should have figured you'd get it," Kyle said. "And that you'd know the reason I backed off after the trial had nothing to do with a stupid sense of honor or anything like that."

"Yeah," Melanie said. "Wanda proved pretty thoroughly after that she probably wasn't even capable of hurting Ian."

"I mean," Kyle said, "If she couldn't even overcome her love-everyone instincts long enough to let my stupid ass fall off a cliff two seconds after I'd tried to kill her…"

"Then she probably wasn't planning to sell everyone out."

"Didn't mean I was in love with the idea of her and Ian together after that, though."

"I'm probably going to be the same way," Melanie said. "If Jamie ever starts dating… God." She shuddered.

"Don't try to kill any of his girlfriends," Kyle said. "It generally doesn't end well."

"Like that's going to stop me if he picks someone I really hate," Melanie said. "As it is I want to murder someone if he stubs his toe or cries at one of Wanda's stories. Plus, if he goes the way I think he might and starts dating boys instead... Big, strong, _evil _boys who probably won't respect him at all…"

"Thank goodness I never had to worry about anyone physically hurting Ian after he finally grew into the O'Shea genes," Kyle said. "Although he did top out at a measly six-one, at least he's only ever dated girls and there aren't many women taller than that. Doesn't stop him from letting anyone who stops by the chance to stab him in the heart, though."

"You _want _him to be less innocent and trusting?" Melanie said.

"Jeez, when you put it like that..."

"Jamie's ruled by his heart and thinks the best of everyone," Melanie said. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Yeah," Kyle said. "Me neither."


End file.
